The Art of War

“It is not a lack of love, but a lack of friendship that makes unhappy marriages.”
Friedrich Nietzsche

After Draco left, the staff wasn't sure what to make of the lady of the house's behavior. She had spent over an hour in the bath, which by itself wasn't that big of a deal, but then she had a cuppa and didn't eat lunch or dinner. She avoided people and seemed dazed, lost in thought. She found her way into the garden and stayed there until the sun went down and then went back to her bedroom rather than the room that she often shared with the master of the house. That they could have let slide, especially with how she seemed to be getting more attached to him, but then she barely picked at breakfast.

The brunette was lashing out a little bit more, snapping at people, and had holed up in the library without doing much, seeming a lot more distant and trying to throw herself into her work. She carried the large orange monstrosity with her everywhere. By the start of the second day, one of the Death Eaters went to go and report the shift they'd noted to Draco. They knew better than not to be attentive to his wife, especially with how protective he seemed.

Hermione was in one of the sitting rooms outside of their wing of the manor now, with a few books on history and translation to try and help her clear her head. Crookshanks in her lap and dressed all in black, her hair pinned back from her face, she was a little jittery. Her foot tapped against the floor, and she didn't make any other sound, still petting her cat. He seemed content enough. Though anytime he heard a noise, he glanced at her and then at the floor as if he wanted to go and investigate himself.

Inside? She felt like a mess. If she had read more into actual dynamics, she might have realized what was happening. She was feeling vulnerable. Raw. Used. Foolish. Angry. And it didn't help that the insults that Seamus had thrown circulated in her head. All of this happened because of her stupid plan to seduce him in the first place. He was obsessed, using her for her mind and her body. That slight shift in their dynamic in the quiet after that moment had to be imagined. Which meant she was deluding herself and degrading herself for...nothing. The thought alone almost had her curling back up in the armchair again.

After his meeting with the Dark Lord, Draco had gone back to the manor to gather a few men. Though he'd wanted to share his whereabouts with his wife, she'd been asleep by the time he'd made it, and so he'd done what he had always done and gotten to work.

It was easier to lose himself to his missions than it was to feel guilt. Even when he'd made his way to the Irish lands and stalked his prey, he had been making plans. He'd left Theo behind to enact some of them. When he returned, he wanted to do something nice for her. Flowers would definitely be involved. He wasn't sure just how many or which type covered the fact of what the Dark Lord had gleaned in his mind. Hyacinths? Tulips? He'd have to find the book. It would be simpler than to deal wit Pansy or worse, his mother.

By the second day, he'd gotten word from the manor of his wife's state, and he knew he had to speed things up. He felt like an idiot. Though he couldn't quite pinpoint what would make her revert back, he feared the worst. Getting hold of Aberforth hadn't been quite so simple. The goat-loving wizard had been a piece of work. The wizard had been harboring others. Many had fled, some had died trying to protect the last Dumbledore. In the end, his men hadn't managed to catch as many as he would have wanted.

Draco left men to try to wrangle the escaped while he returned the last Dumbledore to the Dark Lord. This time, he wouldn't allow himself interruptions for cutting more corners when returning to his home. To his wife. He couldn't allow any doubt. Had to ensure he was free to spend time with her. If he hadn't been so worried sick, he might have brought something with him. Instead, he'd found Theo and gone straight to her without changing.

When he found the sitting room she'd elected to squat in, he vanished the mask and watched her curled in an armchair. At least he'd had Theo to help make some amends. As he stood, flowers were filling the hall of their wing—large vases of white blooms to express his regret. Orchids, tulips, and lilies of the valley offering a silent unorthodox attempt at an apology he couldn't quite voice.

Now that he was there, he was almost afraid to speak. Was she angry with him? Had he done something? Was he assuming and now would rise her ire?

"Hey," he finally managed.

The witch had been so engrossed in her head that she hadn't even noticed the sound of footsteps. At all. When she should have, she should have been able to tell that others had been paying far too much attention to her. As he spoke, she almost jumped, and Crookshanks hrumphed in her arms.

Looking down at the orange cat, she gently squeezed him. "Sorry, Crookshanks," she murmured into his fur and placed a kiss on the top of his head before letting him go. The cat jumped out of her lap, slowly stretched, and mreowed at Draco as he strode past the blond like he had places to be. For all she knew, he did have somewhere to go. Something to do.

Draco perked a brow at the cat but gave him a nod as though the sound had been some unspoken statement. It was short-lived before he was looking back to his partner. Watching her scramble without really moving. He didn't want to read her or keep track through the bond, but she hadn't even registered his footsteps until he'd spoken.

Taking the moment to glance over at Draco, she offered a faint smile, trying to keep her shit together. It was fine. She was fine. It was a lie. The biggest lie she had told herself in a long time, and she didn't know what to make of the fact that she was lying to herself. Trying to put jagged pieces together that didn't feel like they fit at all. "Hey."

She didn't get up from the armchair, keeping her legs curled up to her. Black pants kept the look from being immodest. "Aberforth have traps?" She asked, trying to keep things about business, not realizing he knew how little she was doing for herself. Again.

"I wasn't aware goats jumped," he offered lightly. They'd done more than that, and he'd nearly been impaled by a horn in the ass, but he wasn't about to admit to such a thing. "It's been handled." He didn't exactly want to talk about it, nor did he want to praise her for it, not when he still wasn't sure if she felt guilty about it. Was that why she had stopped eating?

"Goats scream and faint too. Their eyes are weird," she said with a slight wrinkle of her nose. She didn't know what he had to deal with with the goats, but she could guess just how many goats that old wizard had had. It was a thought she didn't really want to contemplate. She was just glad she didn't have to deal with them. "Glad you handled it. Aberforth is...strange."

Strange was an understatement for that man. At least this felt like a normal enough conversation. Though she already wanted to go back to the study or the library where she could get a bit of solitude. The Death Eaters that had lingered around the manor had known better than to poke at her, even if they wanted to. Theo had lingered a few times but hadn't stopped to engage in conversation.

He drew closer to where she stood. "I was thinking we could have dinner together." He hoped the words came as the offering they were.

"I haven't really been hungry," she admitted with a slight shrug of her shoulders. That lethargy lingering. As he drew closer, it would be hard to miss the circles under her eyes.

He reached for her fallen chin and studied her features. The circles, the dullness, and her soft-spoken words. Were they back to when he’d brought her in? He certainly hoped not.

As he gripped her chin to tilt her head up, she almost pulled back. Almost recoiled. Stiffly, she stayed in place, not leaning into his touch as she had been. Even if part of her craved it. Part of her wanted to curl up against him and weep. Weakness wasn't a luxury she could afford. And yet it was cracking through, and she couldn't make it stop as if something in her had cracked.

“You need to eat,” he reminded a bit more firmly. He wanted to be able to be softer. To say things like he’d missed her. “I’ve heard you haven’t been,” he added. “Did something happen while I was gone?” He searched her features, trying to figure out what exactly had transpired.

"I really haven't been hungry," she murmured, wrinkling her nose a little. She'd tried to eat, and it had soured her stomach. Made her feel sick. Everything felt sort of muted. "Nothing happened." And to her knowledge, it hadn't. Other than her feeling rather empty after doing all of that with him only to be left alone. To her own thoughts. In her own twisted head.

His brows furrowed as he studied her, worry flickering in his gaze. If she’d been angry, he would have had a hex on him or something. Right?

His mind pressed against hers. He wasn’t hiding from her, more like asking permission to understand, to be let in. “Are you sure?” He asked. “If you’re feeling ill, I can call the healer…”

That press of his mind almost felt like an invasion, but she didn't withdraw as she glanced away. That worry wasn't what she wanted, and it clawed through her again. That feeling of not being enough that she couldn't explain, of being left alone, that raw vulnerability under it all that she was trying to smother in nothingness. It was that or cry like she had in her own bed.

"I'm fine. I'm not ill, Draco," she said a little more crossly than she meant to.

Draco lingered there, catching glimpses. He’d felt guilty, and apparently for all the wrong reasons. He’d almost always been dominant in his sexual appetites, but it wasn’t like he’d ever needed to take care of his submissive. Usually, they’d been paid and gone.

“You’re not fine,” he retaliated. “You haven’t been taking care of yourself."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him a little bit. "I haven't been hungry. Pretty sure forcing myself to eat wouldn't go well," she drawled, her voice a bit more chilled. She wouldn't raise her voice. She had a role to play, after all. That thought caused a bit of bitterness that she shoved away as well.

Controlling her emotions was something she had been able to do during her jobs. In the safe houses. Now it felt like that had shattered. Broken. Lurking under the nothing was that vulnerability, and she didn't want to deal with it. It hurt. Made her feel less than despite the praise she had gotten before he had left.

“It’s more than not eating. You’re acting like a ghost of yourself,” he accused, hoping to stir something in her. He hated goading her when she couldn’t hurt him, but something had to be done.

With a wand, he lifted a few barriers so no one could hear them. “I don’t know what changed since I left you,” he began. But you need to pull it together.

"I've been reading and translating and keeping busy. Just because I haven't been joking with Luna or Lauren does not make me a ghost of myself," she snapped, rising finally, a bit of anger starting to stir from under everything else as she glared at him.

What had changed since he left her? It had a bit of heat color on her cheeks, but not from embarrassment. Shame. Your men need to mind their own business. Maybe the next one that looks at me sideways, I'll hex. Her voice was almost a growl, but there was that vulnerable edge there too. If her options were anger or tears, she'd pick anger. Every time.

Maybe you should, his mind shot back. Anger he could deal with. “Reading?” He demanded. “And how far have you gotten?” He demanded. He wouldn’t have been given updates if she was on a rampage heading into a breakthrough.

Draco’s hand fisted at his side as he tried to keep himself in check. He’d hated just handing over Aberforth without even trying to get the upper hand. He’d merely given him over and with it any information he might have deemed useful.

Fine! I will. She snapped back. It wasn't the venom from before. It wasn't even the anger from their honeymoon after that shared secret. It was different and less targeted at him. "Not as far as I would have liked. There are three symbols that are proving nearly impossible to translate. And each of them is present on each side of that damned artifact." She grumbled before leaning back in the armchair and closing her eyes.

She knew he had to leave. When summoned, he had to go. He had no control over it. And yet she couldn't help but feel vulnerable at that. The fact that others still either saw her as a traitor or as a reward for His favored lieutenant. And she had crawled for him.

The way she snapped, the way she retaliated, he knew anger lived beneath her skin. It didn't quite taste like he remembered. Didn't hold the same burn when her blows landed. He paused. Their connection, like legilimency wasn't the most straightforward of exchanges. When he'd been let in, he had to juggle between glimpses and conversation.

And then she crawled. Fresh guilt struck him. His hand reached for hers, bringing her knuckles to his lips. "You'll figure it out," his mouth spoke, but his mind. His mind was in a completely different place. You're not a prize, he promised. It's just a role, don't get lost in it, he reminded gently, scanning her chocolate hues with his silver ones.

Stuck in her own head as she sat in the armchair, she paid closer attention to his footsteps. Hearing him as he drew closer to her and opened her eyes as he took her hand and kissed the back of it. That was an angle. She was disheartened from not being able to translate something. It fit with what most people knew of her, too. An insufferable know-it-all who constantly had to prove herself. Especially here. Wasn't that what Luna was doing now, too? So many little prizes for the Death Eaters.

"I certainly hope so. It's almost as if it's written in another kind of cipher within the language that we're trying to unravel and untangle," she sighed wistfully, still seemingly off, but leaning into that reasoning for her mood outwardly.

And where does the role stop and reality begin? What's real and what isn't? Her mind demanded but in that snap and in her eyes, there was a vulnerability that she was trying to hide the best she could.

He eyed her, considering his next move like he did countless times on the battlefield. This wasn’t war, not really. Not in the actual sense. There was no spell or tactics he could apply.

Do you know how many people have gotten me down to a knee in my life? he prodded. Two. And I was on my knees for both on the same night. Only one was enjoyable. He hoped she understood that she had him on his knees willingly. That every time he did so, he risked his neck doing it.

Even now, he let a knee meet the ground, not bothering with a cushioning charm as he kept her hand to his lips. I have made it a point to give you every inch of leeway I can. I need you to be strong for me, his words were firm, but there was also a plea. And when you cannot, lean on me. For better or worse, they were in this together. He could be strong for both of them if she let him.

The prodding and leading question had her brow furrow a moment as she looked at him. The fact he has never been on his knees for anyone else than her and Him had her blinking a few times as she stared at him. As she tried to take that in. Part of this was real. Part of it was something more real than she would have realized. I...see... her mind whispered through his as her hand tightened on his a little bit more.

Lean on him. Be vulnerable with him? The logical part of her mind knew that she could do that. That he hadn't left after that because he wanted to. He had planned to get her a bath and rub her back. To take care of her. When was the last time someone had even offered before he had? Something in her felt like it was cracking as she gave a slight nod, her hand tightening on his.

She blinked several times to keep the tears at bay. It didn't matter if he had charmed the area so no one could hear. No tears. No weakness. Except in how tightly she held his hand. As if she were almost afraid he'd pull away or leave again. ...I'll try. I...it just.... Rather than words, she let him feel the wave of emotion that hit in the hours after he had left to try and explain.

Draco closed his eyes and bathed in her feelings. He allowed them to wash over him and fought back the sting they caused behind his lids. His jaw tensed, and he steadied himself, his breath. He hadn't meant to destroy her like that. To obliterate a part of her. Though her hand was gentle, almost fleeting in his, he kept his fingers wrapped around hers.

When he kissed her knuckles this time, he looked at her the slightest bit more gently. "A wizard only has one word," he stated, rising to his feet. "I gave you mine," he encouraged her to her feet. Let me take care of you, his mind demanded. He would take her back to their quarters and do exactly as he'd promised. It didn't matter that she'd shoddily pieced herself back together; he owed her a bath and a rub, and he would do just that.

Watching his jaw tense, she had a fleeting moment of both satisfaction and guilt. Her hand tightened on his again, and she had to focus on not crying. Not clinging to him. They were something important to each other, but she needed to not dwell on what. Or how. Or why. She had felt almost abandoned, like she did when left alone in those damn safe houses as punishment and she knew that wasn't his fault. He had to obey those summons or they were all screwed.

Slowly rising to her own feet, the fatigue of not eating and not resting as she should made her lean into him a little bit more. Nowhere to be for a little while? If they got interrupted again while he tried to repair them, repair her, she wasn't sure how she'd react. But she'd absolutely start hexing things.

Not that would pull me away from your side, no, he pressed back, his arm snaking around her, tucking her into his side. He'd wanted to have dinner with her, but it could wait. Keeping her flush at his side, he lead her to the hall of their wing where he knew Theo would have done what he'd asked and fill that entire damn hall with flowers. Theo would have made sure there were no interruptions. Now, he slightly regretted not doing more. She deserved more. More time, more than floral apologies for things she wasn't even privy to. Nothing he would be sharing any time soon. Not until she was grounded.

That arm looping around her had her tense a moment before she leaned in against him gratefully. She soaked in the physical contact. The potions had dealt with the marks, so all there was left to deal with was emotional repercussions. She shouldn't feel this vulnerable, and yet she did. "...Can we have dinner in our wing?" She asked tentatively, staying tucked into him as they made it to the door of their wing. Though as soon as they crossed the threshold, she felt those tears well right back up. Was there any surface not covered in flowers? They were all beautiful.

"I wasn't planning on sharing you for a while," he admitted between her question and her taking in the sight. If he paid Theodore Nott, he'd give him a damn raise. He'd outdone himself, really. Perhaps he knew Draco would need more than what he'd had in mind, and honestly, he wasn't complaining. He hadn't liked how he'd left things, and he certainly had not enjoyed sharing his privacy with a voyeuristic master. He'd never understood why his father could do horrendous things and come back to exalt his mother. Part of him was starting to understand.

"Good," she said simply, starting to sound a little bit more like herself. She wanted to keep some of those flowers. Perhaps enchant them so they wouldn't wither or do the Muggle custom of drying them. They'd be nice to hold onto. Turning in his grip, she pressed a kiss to his jaw before continuing into his quarters with him. Their quarters? She was never sure what to call them.

That kiss had his lips perk into the smallest smile. One he wore all the way to where they'd last been together. Once beyond the threshold, he slotted his body against hers, claiming a gentle kiss. It still held demand, but not in the same manner he used to overwhelm her. Perhaps he did have a romantic streak after all. He'd have to redact it all, and he hated it.

"I hope you still have things to wear in this room, or we'll be having dinner naked," he teased. It felt like a lifetime ago when she'd moved a number of items to his quarters. Before she'd decided to shut him out, now that he had her again, he wasn't letting go. He barely did to start the water as he had their last moments together.

As soon as he kissed her, she pressed closer and wrapped her arms around him for a moment. The gentle kiss almost had those tears coming back. But she focused on how his lips felt on hers. How gentle he was being. Though when he broke the kiss she gave a slight roll of her eyes. "I can easily summon clothes if I don't have any in the room, Draco."

Magic was a wonder, after all. She knew she had a robe here; she preferred his bath to her own, and there was a nightgown or two. In theory, there had to be at least three outfits left in his closet. But she couldn't be one hundred percent certain.

"Can you now?" he demanded somewhat petulantly, nudging her back before nipping her lower lip. She was assuming that she would be given enough time and space to achieve such a thing. After spending so much time away and knowing how things had left her, he had a lot of making up to do.

"I can," she said simply and lifted her chin a little higher. She moved back with him towards the bathroom, stepping out of her shoes as she went. He was staying so close. Part of her wanted him to stay that close, to wrap around her and hold her and let her believe for a moment she was valued as so much more than just a prize or a mind to use. A smaller part of her wanted to keep him from touching her in case he left her like that again.

"I'm starting to enjoy the idea of naked dinner," he jeered lightly, pulling his wand to start the bath.

"Of course you would," she drawled with a slight roll of her eyes.

Only with you though, he added between them.

Their banter gave him a bit of relief that she would be okay. That everything would be okay. He doubted he would have the gall to do so in his own house otherwise. There was too much history, much of which she was helping him rewrite, even if he wasn't actively trying. "Would help if we got you out of these," he began working at her clothes.

That assurance from him had her blush faintly even as she rolled her eyes. He couldn't lie, but she was sure he could embellish. If he couldn't, then she would be forced to take everything compliment seriously, and that would make her cry on the spot today if he did. "It would," he agreed but hesitated just a moment before helping him strip her of the blouse and the trousers. Even in her more morose state, she had matched a black bra with black knickers. There was so much black in her wardrobe now.

Draco took a moment to trail fingers on either side of the lacy bra she wore, enjoying the feel of flesh and fabric in his exploration. "Black suits you," he praised, pushing off her blouse to get a better sight of her in that bra. He made no motion to remove it before her trousers. He wanted to see her in the set. It would be a pity to remove it so quickly.

Hermione shivered at the light touch and let her eyes fall closed for a moment. The slow touches over her body and the gentle kisses pressed down her neck had a soft sigh leave her lips. Her fingers brushed lightly through his hair, almost tentative. The raw vulnerability still lingered through it all as much as she tried to shove it down and hide it.

Every touch she granted him was like a ghost of what he was accustomed to. He wanted more, but he wouldn't push her. Not when she felt so shattered. Instead, he leveled the playing field, stripping down to his pants with a flick of his wand that had their outfits of the day disappearing to a hamper somewhere in the manor. With his wand no longer needed, he set it beside the tub.

Returning to her, he leaned back in to kiss her. This time, slanting his mouth against hers. His hands cupping her neck and smoothing down her shoulders. I missed this, he found himself admitting without meaning to. He blamed the attack goats and the Irish.

...I missed this, too. She admitted. Feeling foolish for projecting it when he had to have known she did. There were times she thought he knew her better than she knew herself.

Stripped down to just the bra and knicker set, she felt a little overdressed, relieved when he vanished his own clothing. She made sure her wand was not too far out of reach from the tub and kissed him back as he returned to her. Her fingers brushed over his hair, tracing along the back of his neck.

The gentle touch of his hands would have been enough to start to break her. But that soft admittance into her mind had a wave of emotion answer at first. Relief. Fear. Anxiety. Vulnerability. And some sort of hopeful spark as she stepped in closer. She let her other hand lightly trace over his chest, starting to explore him carefully as they kissed. But rather than simply exploring...she was checking for any sort of injury.

At first, her hands felt warm and welcoming. Soon enough, he realized what she was doing and smiled into the exchange. He felt glad he hadn't lost the lioness that had charged into battle to help him of fear he'd get injured. The Dark Lord had left it up to him to allow her to join, and though he wanted to avoid it, he couldn't help but wonder if she wouldn't do better at his side.

Reaching behind her, he unlatched her bra and slowly pulled it forward. He cast it aside and moved to touch her breasts, never once leaving her lips as he worked to undress her. I thought I was taking care of my wife... Not that he minded her taking care of him, far from it.

The soft exploration paused at that question even as she kept kissing him. Slowly. Languid. Slowly thawing under the slow and building exchange. It had her heart flutter a little bit and was helping to soothe some of that hurt. She still felt fragile, still felt like she needed to be taken care of. But taking care of others was so ingrained into her that she couldn't help it.

You are. Can hardly take care of me if I worry. She countered easily, almost sighing again as he touched her breasts. This was an entirely different kind of need, and she wasn't sure what to do with it. What to do with him. So she didn't fight it.

You have nothing to worry about, he promised. A bruise at best, and no, I don’t want to talk about it. Goats. Stupid, jumping, aggressive goats. One had gotten a good head butt in. It was nothing to write home about, but she’d see a bit of pink where it had landed.

He didn’t dare stop claiming her lips. Not when he had left her to fall back on herself, made her feel like she had with the insurgents. His hands roamed down and worked down her lacy black knickers.

Good...Don't want you hurt. It was another admittance that she didn't want to think, but it was true. She didn't want him hurt. As he helped her out of her knickers, she started to work down his pants, making sure they would both be naked to get in the bath. She wanted to curl up with him in that warm water.

Once naked, he pressed his forehead to hers and sighed. "I'll always risk getting hurt," he met her gaze. "I'm usually good at avoiding it," he smirked. That hadn't been the case with her around, but she wasn't trying to kill him anymore. Gently, he nudged her towards the bath, holding her hand as he stepped in and kept close. After how he'd found her, giving her an inch felt like too much.

That light press had her close her eyes, and she savored the contact. "I know you will. Almost as if you have to fight a bunch of insurgents," she muttered with a wrinkle of her nose. But at his boast, he was usually good at avoiding it had her trace over one of the scars she had left on him with an arched brow before stepping into the tub after him. It wasn't nearly as large as the prefects' baths at Hogwarts, but it was nice. More than enough room for them both.

With her off the field, his injuries had certainly lessened. It wasn’t like he didn’t encounter challenges. He just didn’t meet many that held their weight. After training with Severus, Bella, and the Dark Lord himself, few felt up to the task. But she had.

“Though I suppose I have you to thank for making it out of my last real altercation,” he cupped her cheek and met her gaze. Measuring, gauging, and deciding whether to engage the topic of her in the field.

As they sank down into the water and got comfortable, she was about to close her eyes to relax before he cupped her cheek and met her gaze. She blinked and blushed just a touch. "I suppose you do...I'm glad it wasn't an overreaction on my part..."

If it had been, she was sure there would have been some sort of consequence. As it was, his having to heal was consequence enough.

“Do you miss the field?” He asked, honestly. If she had only done what she needed to do, that was fine, but if he’d gleaned her power and pleasure as well as he thought he had, benching her would be a grave mistake. Either way, he wouldn’t give her more than she could handle. If keeping her close meant he didn’t come home to her like he’d witnessed her, then so be it.

The question had her pause and think about that for a moment. Did she miss it? She didn't miss the desperation of trying to get supplies, but she wouldn't have to do that here. She didn't miss watching people she cared about getting captured or cut down, but she could spirit certain people away if she were careful. And it would afford her more freedom than languishing here at the manor.

"I do..." she looked up at him before letting herself sink down into the water up to her chin and closed her eyes with a sigh. "I miss the rush of a duel. The challenge of out-thinking and outmaneuvering an opponent. And I liked knowing that my knowledge and prowess wasn't just with books."

Keeping her tucked, he closed his eyes and felt her, not just her presence in his lap, but in his mind. He rested his head on her shoulder and sighed. "Then you'll join me," he breathed. The Dark Lord had said to use her as he saw fit. In some cases, he'd spare her and apply her abilities to books and knowledge. "After my brilliant wife translates the last three runes," he smirked, remembering her earlier excuse. There was nothing impending, and the Dark Lord had demanded those above everything. He hoped praise would motivate her, help her push to break the code he knew she was capable of.

Letting him pull her in, she stayed low in the water and pressed back against him, resting her head against his chest with a sigh as she let the water soothe something in her. But it ws him that was soothing it. The contact, the care. The fact he was trying to make things fit and work for her. This was why she shouldn't have panicked. Why her mind shouldn't have spiraled out of control. "Will I?" She asked and tilted her head back to look up at him. "Those runes are a pain in my arse."

"I can be a pain in your arse," he grinned, slicking his lower lip as he met those soft chocolate hues. He loved the magic of them, how they subtly changed in different light. "If anyone can do so, it's you," he dragged his knuckles down her cheek gently and along her jaw. She'd been a pain in his ass with those wits for years, long before the Battle of Hogwarts. "We have a dinner at Hogwarts in a few weeks, and a Halloween event coming up," he listed. In between those, the insurgency would rear its head. "Though before all of that," he murmured against her ear. "I do believe I have a very special occasion to celebrate soon..."

"You already were," she reminded with an arched brow. That night replayed in her head. That wasn't the most degrading thing she had done, but it was still on the list, making her just a little leery of that grin even as it made her body heat up, making her react to him a little bit. Relaxing at his touch to her cheek, she closed her eyes with a faint smile. "Dinner at Hogwarts, Halloween event, got it," she breathed. Her birthday was right around the corner, and she hadn't expected him to mention it. She shivered at that murmur into her ear, blushing a bit more before opening her eyes. "Oh?"

"September 19th is it?" he asked gently, nipping and kissing her gently. At least she had a head's up this time around. He was trying to be better about dates and schedules. Though he knew his own, he wasn't in the habit of sharing it. Making plans too ahead of time risked a chance of it being leaked. "Anywhere you'd like to go?" he asked. He wouldn't be able to sacrifice much time, but her birthday was close enough to excuse a long weekend getaway if he could manage it.

"It is," she agreed with a shiver and tilted her head to press a kiss to his neck gently. The idea that he was planning something for her birthday was nice. When was the last time she got to actually celebrate it? Nothing big since the war had started in earnest. "It would be nice to go back to where I went for my hen's night retreat," she answered easily enough. A long weekend alone would be nice if they could avoid being interrupted again.

She brushed her hair back out of her face slowly. "Outfits need to compliment each other again for the dinner and the Halloween event?"

"Preferably," he nodded, keeping her close and holding back from being too handsy. He'd have time for that later when he worked her back as he'd promised. Matching would certainly help them keep the façade,

"Truro it is," he kissed her shoulder, smiling as he considered more pleasant thoughts. This time he'd get to join her. Enjoy the warmer climate and breathtaking views of the sea. "Perhaps we can catch a game of quidditch," he offered. "I'm rather biased towards the Falmouth Falcons," he admitted gently. She hadn't seemed to mind the sport. "We could always find something else."

"Well...I think I can handle that. Depending on what the dress code is," she sighed softly as she relaxed under the touches. She'd start washing up in a moment, but she wanted to enjoy just relaxing in the water.

Quidditch. When was the last time she had actually gone to the games? "I have a preference for the Holyhead Harpies myself...with the bit of quidditch I've been able to watch," she murmured. "but a game would be nice...And I haven't actually gotten to enjoy the ability to just be places," she breathed. Out and about in the world again. She felt a little guilty until she remembered that Harry had been escaping to do so himself.

At her admittance, he tried not to react. He could only imagine why she preferred that team. “Weather should be nice around that time. I’m sure with the right robes, we can enjoy many places.” He assured—the last of the suns warmer rays against the chilled winds.

“Depending on the dress code?” He tilted his head to look at her. “One’s at a school, and the other is at some hotel downtown London,” he shrugged. “I’d assume no different than any event we’ve attended yet. It’s not like I’m asking you to go to one of the clubs.” He knew his men would expect a night out to blow off steam sooner rather than later.

She nodded her head with a small smile. "Well, we'll bring robes and clothing suited to the weather and be fine." Even if it rained, she knew charms to repel water off of things. It was her spells that had kept Harry's glasses dry during quidditch, and he had passed it on to the rest of them.

"Depending on the dress code. You already had dresses made to match your dress robes that currently exist. So if something else needs to be made, then I'll make sure that it is," she said simply. He had pointed out that she would have the duties of a typical lady of the house. But the mention of the clubs had her shake her head with a faint smile. "You don't take your men before too long, and they'll be quite vexed or rowdy."

“They’ll have to be vexed a while longer,” he assured her. She didn’t seem to be offended by the idea of him going. It wasn’t like he could participate. Not anymore. Can’t say I’ve enjoyed going as much since having you there, his mind brushed against hers. After her attempt, he’d held back. Sticking to staying in the public area, nursing a single drink, and keeping watch.

“As for our wardrobes, we do now have a seamstress on call,” he reminded. It had been the only reason she wasn’t dead for her treachery. Instead, she did work and dropped what he demanded she drop.

"I suppose they will. Can't imagine Blaise would chaperone them now that he has his witch." And Theo was busy with the same wizard when he could be, which was good and bad in equal measure. Glad to know that I did leave such a strong impression on you. Or we wouldn't be here. And she wasn't sure what to think about him going in the first place. It had those knots twisting inside of her all over again.

She gave a nod and reached for the soup to start cleaning up. "We do. I'm sure I can come up with a few ideas."

Blaise and Luna had a relationship even Draco had trouble understanding. Perhaps because the blonde Ravenclaw had changed so much in the last decade. She’d been so soft and airy, and now she was fiery and vicious. Another casualty. If you ever find yourself missing it… he supplied. At least he could kill time better. It wasn’t like the men found themselves playing cards long. “For all I know, he’ll bring her,” he shrugged. It wasn’t his problem. “I suppose I could just send Theo,” he added.

That thought in her head had her shiver and had her blush a bit more deeply as well. Did she miss it? She wasn't sure. It would be a completely different avenue than their bedrooms or the study. And would provide further proof that she was his. Which made her remember Astoria and made her almost want to hex something. Or someone. ...Perhaps. It would certainly make a statement. Because if Astoria tried that again, she might actually harm her.

"Theo seems to have taken to a few more wizards rather than the women of the club," she offered, not wanting to get too into it.

“Theo is indiscriminate in his affairs,” Draco shrugged. It wasn’t his line, and honestly, it wasn’t his business. “Of late he seems to be favoring wizards. He’s never not found anything to his liking,” he added, implying there was more than what was apparent in offerings.

Are you wanting a statement? he asked. She’d certainly made one with Astoria. I only have one witch either way. It didn’t matter if a Veela came at him, he had no desire for anyone else. He’d been surprised by his own desires to begin with. Sex had always just been sex. A way to blow off steam.

That would suck for her friend but she was not going to get involved if she could help it. Not when she needed to make sure she played this role well and tried to angle a way to help him as well. Especially considering her husband's end game. "Well, as long as he's not bringing anyone into the manor I'll have to deal with," she shrugged before she started to clean up.

Did she want a statement? The fact that Astoria had even tried anything with him had made her see red. Which was dumb. Clearly, it was just her reaction to everything going on. And if I did?

I wouldn't deny you your statement, he supplied in earnest. If she wanted to be at his side that way, he would embrace it. If she wanted to stick to the manor, he'd allow it. Either way, he knew she could be of use in a manner that wouldn't cause too many issues.

Good. Don't want someone else like Astoria getting any ideas.... Even if she still felt vulnerable, even if she wasn't sure about what all was real and what wasn't, being close to him like this was helping. The fact that she could publicly claim her as her own soothed something in her. A balm over the cracks in her psyche that she hadn't been able to properly put back together after their games.

The idea of her dealing with one of Theo's conquests was an amusing one. "And deprive everyone of their run of shame?" he chuckled. It had been amusing the few times he'd watched someone realize where they were and rush out like their time had come to an end. Luckily, Theo hadn't brought anyone too questionable to cause issues.

She snorted at that, a bit more of a natural smile curving her lips. "The runs of shame are rather amusing." And her peahen seemed to like help make sure that they were out even more swiftly.

"Caught one, have you?" he brushed a hand along her arm. "I'll give it to Theo. He usually manages to find them way out of his league." There'd been a time when he'd envied the wizard for being so bold. Draco had never really tried with anyone, not in a way to make a connection. And then she'd come along and ripped everything apart.

Mmm, the hum existed rumbling against his lower lip as well as through their bond. Are you threatening me with a good time? Because at the end of the day, she wanted to lay a claim, and he would be a fool to say it didn't stir something primal in him. He smoothed over her sides and cupped her breasts. Do I need to be more forward with you in public? He asked gently. He still had propriety, but he could hold her closer, kiss her more fervently.

"The one I saw after your stag party. Then another yes. My peahen had decided to get involved in getting them off property," she drawled, but her eyes danced with a little bit of mirth, her expression slowly brightening as she washed over her body. She'd need to dunk under the water to get her hair, or she'd have to deal with that in the morning with a shower. A problem for a little bit later.

As he cupped her breasts, her breath hitched softly, and she closed her eyes, trying not to arch into his hands. Her hand did still in washing down her arms though a moment. She chewed at her bottom lip before continuing to clean herself up. I think you should. Would certainly banish the idea that our photos were staged. Or that this is all just convenience.

He leaned in to kiss her shoulder and up her neck. Mmm might need more than a few social functions for that, but we can certainly cause a few scandals, he nipped under her ear at that sensitive flesh.

“Anything seem amiss?” He asked. The birds hardly ever caused a fuss for someone escaping the servant quarters.

Those kisses had her relax back into him again, her eyes fluttering closed as she finished washing, her eyes closing. We might. But it sounds like we have a few coming up that we can start with. Plus, being seen in public for my birthday." A soft gasp left her lips at that nip, and she pressed in a little closer.

"Not particularly. I was outside eating breakfast. Perhaps she was just protective."

Somehow, he doubted it, but there was no use overthinking it. Nothing had gone missing, and he doubted Theo was compromised. Then again, he’d thought so about Blaise. He cast the thoughts aside and focused on her. There was no point in worrying over something he could do nothing about.

He hadn’t been in public much since the wedding and even sometime before that. It wasn’t something he particularly enjoyed. He likely wouldn’t mind it as much if he didn’t constantly have to consider his safety. Now hers as well. It hadn’t stopped tabloids from gossiping.

Pulling away from Draco, she let herself sink under the water for a moment before coming back up and using her hair potions on it with a soft sigh. The intimacy of just sharing a bath with him was nice. It felt better than being alone. Felt safer than being alone. And she wasn't sure what it meant that she practically craved his company when he had left. Craved the reassurance that she was more than a naughty witch made to crawl across the floor.

Logic was filtering back in, making it easier to think and realize why and how she had reacted that strongly. It meant anything like that needed to be planned. Luna had years of knowing that Blaise planned on coming back to take care of her. Hermione didn't. ....If we do things like that again..it needs to be when we're relatively sure you won't be summoned for at least an hour afterward...

With her out of his lap, he made quick work of his body and dunked his head for a moment, just keeping under the surface for a while. When he words reached him, he broke the surface and turned to look at her. He wiped the water off his face and pushed his short blond hair back.

He'd known, and he had warned her that night that he could only push it back so far. Truth was, he had wanted her just as badly that night. Especially after all her teasing, all her denying him. At least she wasn't opposed to it. "Fair," he responded, meeting her gaze. "Are you planning on...spending more nights with me then?" he asked carefully, not wanting to assume. They'd been on quite the trajectory, jerkier than the time Harry's broom had tried to kick him off the pitch. Everything had been amazing on honeymoon until it hadn't been, and then the last few encounters had been a push and pull.

Working the potion through her hair, she let it sit like it needed to as she considered that question. Nights spent with him were more restful, after a fashion, and she was often more content. More satisfied. She wanted to feel bad about it. Wanted to feel guilty. But if she kept doing that, they were never going to progress at all. They'd be stuck fighting with each other when there were more important things to deal with.

"Yes." It was a simple answer out loud, but less simple through their bond. When I'm mad...I don't know. But I sleep better next to you than I don't. Perhaps that was lingering loneliness from the last several years of war. Or maybe it was because she knew that he couldn't harm her and he wouldn't try to force her to do anything she didn't wish to unless he absolutely had to. It was complicated. They were complicated. Actually sleeping next to you and sleeping with you are enjoyable. Even what we did together was enjoyable...until the endorphins faded, and I was left with that drop.

He'd expected some of what she'd thought his way, but then she turned around and laid her hand down. I can't complain about any of those scenarios, he admitted. Sleeping in both senses of the word was pleasant with her. And then what they'd done before his summons. Just thinking about it made him want her. He wouldn't, not until after he massaged her, and even then, after how he'd found her, he wasn't sure starting something of the like was a good idea.

Perhaps we should agree to not go to sleep angry, he offered. His mother had always said as much. If he were being honest, he slept better beside her, too. However, the fact that he was usually pretty drained when they were done might have had an effect on the matter. He tried not to overthink things. Were they becoming a normal domesticated couple? It was oddly anticlimactic.

I was hoping you wouldn't. All things considered, they're all rather enjoyable scenarios still. And she didn't know how to keep from being physically close to him. There was also some strange level of intimacy that felt unavoidable after what they had done together, like something had cracked open. What were they doing, and how was this shifting how they behaved with one another?

I'm not sure how to agree to that... Like during their honeymoon. Even though they had spoken about what had happened, she couldn't help but be angry at him for not explaining more of what he wanted. He hadn't had a reason to trust her and if someone had found out before they had safeties in place then they were both screwed but she honestly wouldn't have been able to turn that off then.

What I'm saying is, with the boundaries we push, we cannot be angry in bed. You need space, take it; we can sort it out on our own time, he explained. With the way their last moment had been, he didn't think it was smart for them to bring too many feelings beyond their doors. Not that kind, at least. He doubted they would be able to do any of it if it were.

Once cleaned off, he grabbed his wand and summoned towels for them. "You won't need clothes for a while," he warned, walking over to a cupboard to grab a few oils. She might not need potions to set everything right, but there was no reason not to give her a proper rub down. He had a special blend of soothing herbs he used with an almond oil base.

No angry in their bed. That was something she could work on. To take her space. There was a whole other room, after all. Agreed. She relented before rinsing the potion out of her hair properly. Grabbing her wand, she used a quick drying spell to dry the waves of her hair as she wrapped herself in the towel and raised a bit of a brow as she stepped out of the tub completely.

"Well, I'm not about to argue." Not about this. She would argue about a lot, but not this.

“Smart witch,” he praised, trading his towel for a pair of pajama pants, keeping the two vials in hand. A few wand movements later, he had the bedspread and sheets pulled back for her. “Let me know when you’re comfortable.” He invited her with a motion to settle in. While he waited, he settled one of his vials down.

Hermione made sure she was dry before she sent the towel to the hamper and moved into the bed. Their bed? She'd examine that later. But she carefully laid down on the bed, turning her head to the side and moving her hair off her back and out of the way.

She settled carefully, shifting her weight slightly as she lay on her stomach, and closed her eyes as she started to relax. "I'm comfortable."

Another wave of his wand and the lights dimmed, most of it coming from the hearth crackling with a healthy fire in it. Opening the crystal vial in his grasp, he dipped some of the golden liquid in his palm and set the bottle on the nightstand. Rubbing his hands, he spread the substance over them.

The mattress gave a small dip as he set a knee on it, climbing to settle beside her before straddling her rear, mindful to keep his weight off of her. “Any particularly tense spots?” He asked, staring at the small of her back, thumbs drawing careful circles on either side of her spine before smoothing up along it. Once at the back of her neck, he traced down her shoulders and smoothed his hands down her back.

The dimming lights had her slowly close her eyes. Was this what he would have done for her that night as well if he hadn't been summoned? This kind of attention to detail would always be appreciated. "Lower back and shoulders. I've been tensing up and not keeping the best posture for a few days," she admitted quietly as he settled in.

Those first rubs of his fingers into her skin had a soft sigh of pleasure leave her lips. That felt really nice. Anytime he wanted to do this for her, she wouldn't object in the least.

He could practically feel it as he did his preliminary swipes over her back, feeling those knots in her shoulders and that tension in her lower back. He also knew where to press to cause pain, but in much smaller, more gentle motions could be quite pleasant like the crook where neck met shoulder.

“Your posture was never the best,” he reminded. But then fretting over her friends and years hunched over books and parchment were hardly friends to posture.

She wrinkled her nose slightly at that reminder and was about to say something before his hands lingering there had her sigh gently, and she let herself relax under his hands. "It wasn't the worst either."

“No more slouching,” he told her in a gentle purr of a chide as he worked through a knot in her shoulder. His fingers diligently and carefully working it out. “Unless you want to learn what happens to Malfoys who slouch…” It shouldn’t be hot to want to punish her. To find something trivial to pick at. Even then, he’d never hurt her the way he’d been.

He pulled up to summon the second vial, carefully pouring a line down her back. It would feel like warm wax when in contact with what he’d used to begin with. An added warmth he spread into her lower back before working upwards. Nothing strikingly uncomfortable, but a whisper of sensory plays to come.

That soft purr had a shiver roll down her spine as he worked through knots in her back. His fingers were like magic. Perhaps it was even magic he was using to work out the knots. "And what happens to Malfoys who slouch?" The question was out before she could stop it, relaxing further under his touch. Was it something that would fall under that mock punishment in one of those situations again? She wasn't sure she was ready for another round of playing that hard again just yet.

A soft murmur of pleasure left her lips at the warmth that spread from that new vial poured onto her skin. That felt amazing. It was incredibly warm, and each pass of his fingers had it spreading to the rest of her back.

Draco felt a stir at her words that only worsened at that sound of pleasure. “The cane,” he drawled. It used to make him shudder, and part of him had wished it would help him relent from her effect on him. With her on its other end, he could envision her wrists and ankles magically tied to it afterward, left at his mercy.

Swallowing down, he was careful to keep off of her as he worked. This wasn't about him. There would be time, he told himself.

"Hmmm," she mused aloud without saying a negative or positive thing about it. Teasing him at the moment when he was trying to take care of her seemed cruel. He was trying to make it all better, and the last thing she wanted to do was be the sort of brat that would make it harder for him to actually do what he wanted. As he had stated, he was a wizard of his word, after all.

Letting herself relax further, she stayed still, a soft hum of pleasure leaving her again. "That feels really nice."

"You feel really nice too," he praised as he lingered where she seemed to enjoy, allowing his touch to soothe every part of her back he came in contact with. Who knew learning to harm would also mean knowing how to mend? When he worked her shoulders this time, he smoothed down her arms, then shifted to massage her wand hand, gently rolling her dainty wrist before working his way up.

A soft sigh of pleasure left her lips as he focused on those spots along her shoulder blades. Tension eased out of her body, and she hadn't expected him to massage her hand. That was oddly satisfying. Had she ever really given her hands that much attention? Probably not. But that felt amazing.

He smoothed up and down her arm, using his thumb to circle and inch along the side of her upper arm, his fingers doing most of the work along her bicep. A mix of motions he repeated over her other arm. "Turn, and settle back against the pillows," he asked her before he could decide to touch that perfect arse of hers. Instead, he moved towards the lower half of the bed to catch a foot. He had a feeling she'd cry once he'd get to her calves. Years of running, quite literally likely hadn't been ideal for comfort.

All of this had her melting, relaxing under each touch. Her arms and shoulders didn't suffer much abuse, if they didn't count her having most of her body weight on her arms the other evening, compared to her legs. Once he was done with her back and her legs, she sighed softly and slowly turned over, settling back against the pillows to watch him now. As soon as he caught a foot, she lifted a brow but couldn't help but smile. This was an unexpected turn of events.

The way she looked over with that look had him give her a nonchalant one in response. "What?" he asked, as if he didn't know exactly what she was thinking, his thumb working a line along the arch. A few moves he'd learned from a masseuse his mother kept on the payroll. The woman had been petite, but she had a way of turning the human body into something close to putty. Of course, he'd been curious in his younger years.

"Just didn't expect the level of attentiveness," she said as calmly as possible, though as his thumb worked along the arch of her foot, she almost squirmed. That felt nice, but it also reminded her how many times she had been stuck with trainers until they were falling apart. Very little support in her shoes for years. Which only had her half dreading what it would feel like once he started in on her calves if he planned on rubbing all of her.

He continued to work those soles until his palm pressed to it, keeping her foot in his hold so he could work the underside of her leg, lifting her as he needed. "Have I done anything to make you doubt my thoroughness?" he asked. Whether hunting her or bedding her, he hadn't exactly cut corners, not even when magic had them incapable of denying each other during their honeymoon.

A bit of a chuckle left her at that as he adjusted her. "No. You are incredibly thorough in everything." She gasped the last word as his hands started to knead and work out knots in her calf. It took all of her self-control not to yank her leg out of his grip. It hurt. She knew that once the tension was worked out of it the relief would be incredible but for the moment it just hurt.

"Breathe," he encouraged, easing lightly on his motions but keeping his grip firm on her foot. The last thing he needed was an inadvertent kick launched his way. Or perhaps she would mean it. Either way, he worked to minimize damage. His thumb drew small circles across every inch he could reach, starting at her ankle and up to her knee.

She took in a slow, deep breath and closed her eyes. The tension she was carrying in her body that she hadn't even known about was terrible. Maybe she needed to take the time to actually have a massage every so often? Her poor body had been through hell a number of different ways, and she had the means and opportunity to take care of it now.

He continued to work her calve until he felt the tension subside before beginning on the other. Starting with her foot and moving onto her leg. “Potions and salves only go so far,” he reminded. He’d learned as much in his youth, but then, his father hadn’t always had the purest intentions when aiding him. When he finally worked the last of that tension, he set her leg down and reached for his wand. A few motions and a tall glass of water appeared on the nightstand. “Drink up,” he pat her leg before slipping out of bed to stand, taking a moment to stretch and readjust.

As he started on the other leg she grimaced a moment, but her left leg already felt a lot better. "Didn't exactly have the time to go to a masseuse during all of the fighting, darling," she murmured, almost hissing as he hit a particularly tender spot. But she forced herself to relax and not tense up. It would just make everything worse. Once he worked all of that tension out, she did pick up the glass of water and drink it. It would make sure her leg didn't cramp up.

They had been fighting, but they'd also had a betrothal and gotten married, and she'd had quite a few weeks at her disposal. "Next time, like the muggle, do research and take a day to yourself," he offered with a shrug, summoning a glass of water for himself. He couldn't recall a single time having spent so much time on a lover. It made it harder to excuse their moments as transactional. At least she seemed more relaxed. He'd take his wins where he could.

"Let me know when you're ready for that dinner," he smirked, glancing her over his shoulder on the way to his closet.

Drinking more of the water, she flushed just a touch. She got so focused on working on things that everything else seemed so utterly inconsequential that it wasn't funny. And she didn't want to really think about the fact that she could have done all of those things rather easily. Mrs. Malfoy could do as she pleased. Hell, even when betrothed, they could have. "I just might."

Finishing her glass of water, she reached for her wand and actually summoned some clothing from his large closet. As well as a pair of knickers and a bra again. She carefully moved, pulling on her underclothes before pulling on a skirt. Black and slit up to the thigh. The blouse was off the shoulder and a soft silver color. At least she looked nice. Refilling her glass of water, she took another long pull from that. "Ten more minutes." Because she wanted to just bask in that level of attentiveness for a little bit longer.

He could give her ten minutes to bask and realize what she'd been missing out on. It was something she had to learn for herself. Something he couldn't do for her. If her transition were too smooth, it would be questioned. Especially considering everything, their past, their situation, the rumor mill that continued to spew a mixture of things. He could control only so much of what went into publication. It hadn't stopped a few to claim the opposite.

In the comfort of his closet, he took the time to select a black suit, catching a glimpse of silver flying out towards his room. It gave him the sense to pull a tie with similar coloring and a blazer with silver enhancements from buttons to embroidery. He took a moment to check his hair and charm any stray ginger hairs from the cat away before emerging. "I'll meet you in our dining room," he offered, giving her time to bask and do what she needed before joining him.

After a few more minutes, she got up and went to the bathroom to make sure her hair was in those soft waves around her face. Using a hairpin to pin some of her hair back from her face, she looked at herself in the mirror. She at least looked a bit more relaxed. Less haunted. She was still tired, and she could actually feel a bit of hunger now. It was a little bit longer than ten minutes, but not by much as she left his room and went to their small dining room in their wing of the manor.

Crossing the room to take her seat across from him, she tucked one leg behind the other and tried not to fidget.

Once sat in her seat, plates appeared before them. A side of salad with grilled chicken and vegetables was presented before them.

I doubt I need to remind you of expectations, he let his mind brush hers as he sliced into the white meat on his plate. She hadn’t eaten in days, and that would be remedied immediately.

Picking up her fork, she made direct eye contact with him as she took a bite of salad. He didn't have to insist she ate when she was the one that brought back up eating with him. She shouldn't be too surprised. He seemed to almost need to be in control of what was going on.

I'm not a child. She supplied with a slight sniff, taking another sip of water as well before taking a few more bites.

Draco took a bite of meat and kept her stare. She definitely was not a child. As much as he liked control, he had no patience for child’s play. It wouldn’t stop him from fretting over her, especially when he’d been pulled aside while in the field about her behavior. He didn’t need the added stress.

“I don’t need a firm answer now, but you might want to consider how closely you want to work with me in the field,” he said carefully. “As I mentioned earlier, you are welcome to join me,” he continued. “I don’t want to cause problems either, especially where some of your former allies are involved…” This was as good as any time to bring it up. The Dark Lord had left it to his discretion after all.

Hermione took a bite of the chicken, and her body started to almost demand more food. But she kept herself eating at a steady pace rather than inhaling the food. Images and roles to play, after all. So many expectations. He was lucky she knew how to properly conduct herself after hardly caring about propriety or rules with the insurgency. Now, she was being watched closer than ever in some ways.

"I'll think about it. I have far too good an eye for research to abandon that endeavor completely," she offered as a rather political answer. But she would join him on occasion. There were certain people she would like to pay back in kind for the isolation and lack of respect.

Draco sipped the glass of white wine served alongside the dish to conceal his smile. "Do I neglect you so that you feel I'm gone most of the time?" he asked. There was more than violence in his life, and though fights could turn into weekends away, it was usually the torture and aftermath that took away most of his time. "Though I can't deny the appeal of you pouring over books," he looked her over. She had a way about her when she went on a quest for knowledge. A determination in her eyes and a manner in which she closed out the world around her that was nearly arousing. "Might have to send Lauren to another part of the manor next time you research in the library," he offered with a wicked smile.

Raising a brow at that question, she couldn't help the slightly playful smirk. "Most of the time? No...but always at the most inconvenient times," she only half-teased. They'd have to be careful about what they did in their personal lives compared to what they were doing as an expectation. She'd try talking to Luna about how she coped with it since her friend had very little trouble talking about such things now. "Are you saying that my studying and being bookish is exciting?" Never would she have thought someone would think about it that way. But the library, with all the space and surfaces, almost made her blush to think about. Sending Lauren to another part of the manor wouldn't be a terrible thing....

He couldn't counter the fact that he was often called upon at the most inopportune moment. "If you came with, we might work faster," he noted. And then resume what they'd be doing, but then she'd have to deal with Him. He didn't like that either, but he also couldn't stand when she was left behind and still managed to cause him worry. It didn't seem to matter what he chose. There were shortcomings.

"Sometimes," he nodded. "When you're ablaze with desire to meet your end..." he met her gaze, allowing her a glimpse of a few memories. The way she would slick her lips and lean over her books. The small shifts in her appearance as excitement hummed beneath her skin. More subtle than when she had been hunting him or one of his targets.

"True. The two most brilliant minds of our age could get things done rather quickly...." She murmured. She didn't want to go nearly so far as to have one of those marks burned into her skin. Not a Death Eater. Not that she thought the Dark Lord would see her as fit to bare the mark. Which was just fine with her. And then she wouldn't worry about what could possibly happen to Draco. She hated admitting that she worried.

Taking another bite of food as he shared that glimpse of his memories, she smiled a little bit more, even as she blushed a deeper shade of pink. How often had he simply watched her working in the library or the study as she managed to crack another piece of the translation? She wasn't sure. But he was clearly paying more attention than she gave him credit for.

"You have an eye for detail." She almost crooned the words, though her mind brushing his was...softer. You pay that much attention?

I would be bad at what I do if I didn’t pay attention… It was different with her. He noticed much more about her than he did anyone else. In some way, he always had. No matter, he couldn’t admit as much. Not even now.

He’d planted the seeds of getting her out there. It was all he would say on the matter. She would figure out what she wanted. We still have to move your hostages… he reminded. The carriage house would only work for so long. And since he’d need her to redact their night, it seemed appropriate to discuss.

Let me correct myself. You pay that much attention to me while I'm in our home? When I'm not able to or going to threaten you? She took another bite of food and tried not to look a little amused. That showed a level of attentive attention that she wasn't sure he would have given anyone. Even while fighting.

Meeting his gaze across the table, she gave a slight nod of her head. We do....Luckily, getting them out together might make that easier. Assuming either of them will listen to me. That was what she feared the most. That they wouldn't listen, and she would have risked them both for nothing.

Draco just looked at her. She could draw her own conclusions. The entire evening had been too much. He'd already shown too much. Every day, he felt like she got more from him than he planned to give. It seemed to be an ongoing theme with his wife. Focusing on her proposal was easier.

I can potentially help in a few days, he offered. She could take a day or two to try and get across to her hostages. He couldn't consider them friends. Couldn't even allow himself to think of them as safe.

Hermione wasn't sure what to make of Draco the longer they were together. He was much more complex than she had been able to see on the other side, though she supposed that was the point. But he was taking care of her in a way that he didn't have to. It was enough to make her start to lower her guard around him again. That and how doting he'd just been.

Finishing her dinner, she drank more of the water. I'll take the time to get through to them. If she couldn't....she could always obliviate them like she had her parents and spirit them away.

Most of his plate was empty as he left his wine for water. Polishing down a drink before settling his napkin on the table. "Did you want dessert?" he offered. He wouldn't deny her a full meal after all, and what was the point of a full elvish staff if not to have all which they desired?

Sipping at the water, she considered it. She could absolutely eat dessert and after the relaxation of everything else upon his arrival home? "Yes. I think that would be nice."

With the desire spoken, their plates and wine glasses disappeared to allow smaller plates to appear with a peach melba atop it. It wasn’t his favorite dessert, but it hadn’t stopped him from taking a couple of bites, enjoying the mix of fruit, ice cream, and cake, which made it refreshing.

The blend of fruit with the ice cream was something she savored. It wasn't something she would have asked got herself, but like everything in the manor, it was made to perfection.

“I need to retire to the study for a while,” he spoke once his plate was a little over half full. “You’re welcome to join me if you want,” he offered. She always had some reading or other to finish, and he had a few owls to send.

Eating another few bites of her dessert, she watched him for a moment. "...I'll be happy to join you if you could wait till I'm done?" It was part bargain and part hope that he'd want to wait for her. She was tired of being alone. Overthinking this wasn't helping her. So perhaps it was time to simply accept it.

Draco nodded. He could wait for her. “Alright,” he agreed. Though he had things to do, they weren’t particularly urgent.

"Thank you," she murmured before taking another bite with a bit more of a smile.

As she ate, he settled his cutlery on the side of the plate so it disappeared back to the kitchens. It gave him time to sip at his water while divvying up his next moves for the evening.

Even in the silence, she felt more at ease. Relaxed. Companionable. He had taken the time to take care of her with no reciprocation needed. What...were they? This was more than convenience and more than obsession. But what was it?

Remaining still was a gift and a curse. Even though his presence was the epitome of calm composure, his mind never stilled. Yet there was neither cane nor threat to make him stay. Duty, however, made it so that he would not rush her. Not after how he’d found her. He’d worked too hard to get her back on track to waste the efforts.

Finishing up her dessert, she also made sure to finish the glass of water as well. At least that way, her muscles wouldn't ache too much from the thorough rub down she had gotten. And he couldn't say she wasn't drinking water. It was selfish of her, but that fragile part of her wanted to be closer. She wanted to curl up with him and actually let herself feel safe, valued, and secure with him.

Every so often, his gaze had flickered, assessing her plate, her glass. Always paying attention without hovering. It wouldn't help to breathe down her neck. She had to want to do better, or he couldn't help. If the war had taught him anything, it was not to overlook will.

"Did you want a cup of tea?" he asked. "We can also request it in the study," he offered. Though he preferred a firewhiskey to end the day, he knew it wasn't uncommon for most to opt for a cuppa.

That sounded perfect, especially in the study. A bit more of a smile curved her lips as she put down her silverware, and the rest of her dishes were spirited away. Perhaps house-elves weren't nearly that bad. "Having a cup of tea in the study would be lovely." And quite the nice way to wind down.

Would he be at his desk, or would he work from someplace more comfortable? She wasn't sure, and she wasn't about to ask in case he questioned why she asked in the first place.

With a nod, he rose to his feet. A few steps, and his chair silently tucked itself to the table as if by invisible hands. "I'll be sure to send word to the kitchens," he assured. Part of him wanted to offer her his arm, but over the last few weeks, she'd made it abundantly clear that she didn't need it, so he merely kept the door open instead, motioning for her to pass.

Hermione chewed at the inside of her mouth lightly, not wanting to cause any damage, as she stood up and smoothed out her skirt. Once she walked out of the room, she waited til he let go of the door before she looped her arm with his and leaned in against him a little bit. Hadn't he said to lean on him if she didn't think she could be strong? Might as well actually lean on him as she was getting her footing again.

His gaze flicked to where her arm joined with his. Though he made no motion to stop her or even mention it, he couldn't help but wonder what had changed. Easily, he had covered her hand with his, walking with her as if a paparazzi was lurking around the corner to catch a candid. Whether she would maintain this level of proximity, he couldn't tell. There was a comfortable silence between them, or perhaps his overthinking mind seemed to think as much as they made their way to his study.

Without parting from her, he used silent magic to open the doors, allowing them in before closing them again for privacy. "I need to write a few owls, but once I get my note in, there should be tea shortly," he said, leading her to the sitting area closest to the bookshelves

She felt that look but was glad he hadn't asked her. She didn't have an answer. Didn't want to answer. Her emotions when it came to this were chaotic and hard to pin down. In one moment, she hated him and wanted all of this to be better. Wanted to be as close to him as she could get without causing an issue.

Letting him guide her over to the sitting area, she smiled just a little bit. "Thank you, Draco." Hopefully, nothing was too pressing.

He nodded, noticing how she thanked him, trying not to overthink it. Was she upset that he needed to be at his desk? That seemed silly. And yet he couldn’t stop thinking about how she had leaned on him.

Before he pulled away completely, she leaned in and brushed a gentle kiss along his jaw. A ghost of a touch before she moved to curl up on the couch there and summoned a book for enjoyment rather than research. Rest. She needed to let herself unwind so that she could probably focus on the task at hand. IT wouldn't do them any good if she were burning herself out and burning the candle at both ends.

A few moments later, a small bit of parchment zoomed through the air to the kitchen for her tea. Then, he took the time to pour himself a whiskey and settle at his desk. He began with an answer to the invitation and stated his plus one. A vote would be held in the next few days to have his partner added to the board. He had to hope it wasn’t a mistake based on their last disagreement on Hogwarts matters. Then he jotted an encrypted note to the club, requesting a time and date.

Keeping her legs carefully tucked under her body, she read through the book with a small smile on her lips. As the tea arrived on the nearby table, just the way she took her tea, she picked up the cup and took a slow sip, a satisfied sigh leaving her lips.

When all his missives were written out, he stacked them and had them sent over to Theo, knowing he would get them to their destination. He was one of the few he trusted.

Eventually, he stood, polishing off his drink and settling the crystal tumbler down. He swore her lips lingered on his jaw.

“Business or pleasure?” He asked from behind the couch, nudging his chin toward her reading of choice.

Taking another sip of her tea, she continued to read. It was an account of Merlin and his adventures, something she hadn't read since school, and it soothed her a little bit more to read it.

Feeling Draco behind her as she reached for her cup again, she tilted her head back slightly. "Pleasure. My mind could use the break before I dive back into the research again."

His chin dipped in acknowledgment. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d read for pleasure. Looking around, he spotted the shelf he had in mind and withdrew his wand. With a flick and a point, he brought a tome forward. One, he marched around the couch to catch in midair. With it safely in hand, he settled on the other side of her, leaving a cushion seat between them as he opened up an old copy of Nietzche’s Beyond Good and Evil.

That distance wouldn't do. Not when she craved closeness. Needed it. If she was going to embrace this enough on her own terms to be able to handle everything that they were doing, she needed the companionship. Not just sex.

She closed the distance between them and actually leaned in against his side as she read her book, enjoying the warmth of his body like this.

When she’d shifted, he had half expected her to leave, not draw closer to him. Had he broken her so thoroughly that she no longer cared how monstrous she claimed him to be? He couldn’t dwell, not without showing shock on his features. Instead, he left his book suspended at just the right distance before him to read and settled an arm around her shoulders. Despite his best attempts, the move was almost choppy. Too fast and too slow, and definitely not one he could have practiced. It wasn’t like he cuddled Nott or Blaise in his study. The only two that ever got to glimpse it on occasion, and even that had been revoked when they’d burst in on him and the brunette at his side.

She honestly did not expect Draco to wrap an arm around her in the first place. But she wasn't about to question it or complain. Not when she craved the closeness. Even if he did do that a little awkwardly, the witch shifted to get comfortable against his side as she read, barely holding back a yawn.

He could feel those shifts as she tucked closer and made herself comfortable. Fearing disturbing her, he kept still. Reading with minimal movement. It made him feel at odds with his body, tiring him as he struggled to maintain a position that otherwise might feel natural. Noticing that yawn, he finished his chapter and closed the book. “You should sleep if you’re tired,” he nudged gently. He didn’t want to assume her sleeping arrangements even less make demands. Retiring didn’t sound horrible if he were honest.

That stiffness to his own posture was a little concerning, making her wonder and doubt in her own head again. But she pushed that aside. He had been on his knees for no one else willingly. That made her different. Special. Even if only in that regard. He saw her as an equal. Holding back another yawn, she almost grumbled as he nudged her gently. "...I'm exhausted," she admitted quietly as she marked her place and slowly closed the book. But she didn't move to get up yet.

Looking over at her he had half expected her to move. Now that she remained there, he couldn’t bring himself to be the first to rise. This was uncharted territory, and though he knew he should speak or nudge, he merely remained as he was.

Looking up at him, she considered for a moment before leaning in and placing a light kiss on his cheek. "...Mind if I share your bed tonight?" He always said it was up to her, but she wasn't entirely sure about that, not after the last few days.

He turned to look at her, reaching under her chin to meet her gaze. “I’ve never denied your presence,” he reminded, studying her for a moment. Keeping her like this, he felt a shiver in his chest, a lightness in his lungs that tickled and demanded more. He leaned forward and brushed her lips. “I’ll meet you in bed,” he whispered.

She let him keep her chin lifted towards his face. Her gaze stayed on his, and she kissed him back gently, almost pressing closer. That gentleness had her want to curl up even closer to him. "Alright," she breathed against his lips before slowly standing up and heading toward his room. With a flick of her wand as the door started to close behind her, her clothes shifted to a silver nightgown to sleep in.

Draco followed her through his door, barely registering it closing with that silver piece framing her body, highlighting her fleshed-out curves that had nearly extinguished over the past few years.

With a quick spell, he sent his attire for laundering. He had pajamas but seldom wore them. He didn’t like the feel of elastics or bands around his waist. Beyond that, it was easier to throw on a set without having to transfigure or send away the garments worn.

Pulling away his sheets, he slipped in them as he had nearly every night.

The fact that he was completely nude again just had her blushing a touch. Normally, she only saw him naked when they were in the heat of things and right after. He was so pretty despite the scars. Despite the mark. And she could trace every scar that she had left on his skin, almost like she had signed a claim over him years ago and hadn't even realized it.

Climbing into bed, she set her wand on the bedside and curled in against him, wrapping an arm around him and nestling close. She needed the contact.

Throat dry, his arm hovered for a second as she tucked in. There was nothing sexual in the way she pressed her body to his, and yet her scent filled his nostrils, and her proximity and heat certainly didn’t leave him unaffected. For the first time in his years, he regretted not having something to shield him from her—some type of garment to place between them.

“G-goodnight.” The word hadn’t been as smooth as he’d expected, but then, he seldom had to speak it. Not since his childhood as his mother stepped away from his door.

A soft hum of acknowledgment left her lips, though she was already half asleep as she stayed curled in against him. Running herself into the ground had left her exhausted. And she didn't even realize how out of sorts she'd left him with just simply cuddling in against him.